Spock in Wonderland
by V Tsuion
Summary: Spock falls down the rabbit hole into Wonderland, where everything is topsy-turvy and nothing is logical. All he wants to do is find the captain, but everyone around him has other plans.


He walked on through the dark forest.

The ground was covered in a layer of freshly fallen snow that glowed white, illuminating bare trees in shades of pale grey that shone against the deep, dark blue sky. It seemed to go on forever.

The snow crunched beneath his regulation black boots as he wandered on through the night. He was a Vulcan, with sleek dark hair and pointed ears. He wore a blue uniform designating him as a Starfleet officer of medical or scientific duty. He was a Starfleet officer; Commander Spock – he recognized the name and called it his own – the first officer and science officer of the starship Enterprise.

Spock forced himself onwards, each step more difficult than the last. His legs pounded as they carried him, feeling as though he were made of lead. Though the air was not cold, the icy light chilled him to the bone - an illogical expression, but he found it oddly accurate. Still he walked onwards, wandering through the forest. His eyes scanned the woods in every direction, searching, searching...

There was something missing. There was something he needed to find. If only- logically- What was it?

"Jim!" the name escaped his mouth before it had fully formed in his mind, "Where are you?"

His voice echoed in his ears long after the forest returned to silence. There was no reply. The captain; where could he be? Why was he not there? Was he in danger-

A glint of golden yellow flashed between two trees ahead. The captain! Spock threw himself forwards, jogging, running, sprinting, on and on through the endless forest. A flash of gold, a rolling laugh, they spurred him forward.

"Come on!" he heard the captain call out to _him_, "We're late!"

The trees blurred as Spock ran past. His body ached, but he did not- could not stop. Faster, faster, but never closer. Still, he had to go on; he had to find the captain.

The ground vanished beneath his feet. He flailed for purchase as the glow of the snow and the trees and the deep blue sky slipped away until all he could see was darkness surrounding a small circle of light far above him.

"Captain!" he called out to no avail.

He was completely and utterly alone.

He felt himself falling through the air as the circle of light slowly faded away. For he knew not how long, he fell in total darkness with nothing but his own thoughts for company. He had to find the captain; he would find the captain...

And then a soft, yellow light brought the dirt walls of a tunnel - its diameter was approximately equal to the length of his total arm-span - into focus. It gradually got brighter and brighter as Spock fell and dirt gave way to what appeared to be wallpaper, bearing a floral pattern vaguely reminiscent of Earth's past. Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed what appeared to be some sort of furniture.

He spun himself in mid air and found himself face to face with a device, resembling a wooden cupboard of early Earth design from somewhere within the British Empire, seemingly _nailed_ to the tunnel wall. It was most unusual, but before he could examine it further, he had fallen out of sight. Where was he, that someone would take the pains to nail antique furniture to the walls of a tunnel? Who would do so? It was a fascinating conundrum, if nothing else.

As he fell he passed tables, several chairs, including one sawed in half, two desks, a bookshelf, more cupboards, shelves of various sizes, and numerous other pieces of furniture, all nailed to the wall as well.

Finally, he landed with a thud in what appeared to be a pile of sticks and leaves once part of a variety of trees from the northern temperate forests of earth. Interesting; it was much less painful a landing then he would have expected. He found himself at the end of a long dirt passageway, just tall enough for him to stand without bending his neck, and several times more narrow. It was brightly lit, but he could find no source of light. There was no one in sight.

"Captain!" he called out once more, "Jim, are you down here?" perhaps the captain had fallen as he had.

He waited there, upon the pile, listening closely for any trace of the familiar voice. There was nothing. He slowly forced himself to his feet-

Suddenly he saw the captain run past, waving for him to follow with a shout of, "We're late!"

"Captain! Wait up!" Spock called back and scrambled down the passageway after him.

He turned a corner and found himself in a long, low, _empty_ hall, also ornamented in the style of the British Empire. It was lined with doors, the likes of which he could have found on the Enterprise. A row of what appeared to be gas lamps hung from the ceiling, though there was more light in the room than they alone could provide.

"Captain! Where are you?" he called out sharply.

The captain could not be far; if he had not beamed up to the ship then he had to be behind one of the doors. Spock waited, letting the seconds draw themselves out into minutes, but there was no reply. If only he could contact the captain- He felt for his communicator, but it was nowhere to be found. His phaser was equally absent.

No matter, he went around the room, meticulously checking each door. He threw his weight against them and tried to pry them open from the edges. He pushed and pulled and tore and shoved, but none of them even budged. If the captain was behind any of them, Spock could only reach him with the absent key, unless someone else opened them from the other side. But there had to be another way!

He scanned the room.

Suddenly he spotted a small three-legged table standing in the middle of the hall that he was quite confident had not been there before. At closer examination, he found it to be made of solid glass. Upon the table was a tiny golden key of old earth design. Useless! If only it was a modern key, he could have used it to open the doors around him, but no. Whoever had placed it there - likely using a form of transporter - he had no way to contact them.

There had to be something else then, something else he could use. He turned and examined the room once more. There, against the far wall, he spotted a low curtain. He pulled it aside to find an old fashioned door, complete with handle and lock, not 15 inches tall. It was too small for him to fit through, but it was a door he might be able to open.

He retrieved the key from the table and tried to push it into the lock. He turned it this way and that until it finally slid in. He rattled it again until it clicked and he pulled the door open with so much force, he was surprised it didn't break. Then, he knelt down and peered through the doorway. It opened into a tiny tunnel - several times too small for either he or the captain - that led into what appeared to be a beautiful garden in earth style.

The captain was nowhere in sight.

Still, he shouted into the garden, "Captain Kirk! Jim! Can you hear me?"

Again, there was no reply.

He forced himself to his feet and turned back to the rest of the hall with a sweeping glance. There, upon the glass table, he spotted a little bottle that, again, he was quite confident had not been there before. What good would a drink do? He had the captain to find. He scanned the room searching, searching. There had to be something else, something that could lead him to the captain! But there was nothing. So he made his way over to the table and examined the little bottle.

Around its neck was a paper label that read "DRINK ME" in large calligraphic letters. Spock wafted the contents and the scent of various human dishes, all mixed together in a strange savory-sweet aroma, engulfed him. Fascinating. What the liquid was, he had no idea, but with no alternative present, he picked up the bottle and took a tiny sip. An unusual sensation ran throughout his body and almost immediately he found the room a bit larger around him - he had shrunk about an inch.

It was a highly illogical effect; the idea of a drink, nonetheless, changing a person's size made little sense considering all his scientific knowledge. Technology for doing anything of the sort was barely in its infancy. Still, there was the fact that he had taken a sip from the bottle and he had shrunk, by however small a margin. It then followed that, if he drank enough of the liquid, he would be able to fit through the door.

He did not know if the captain was on the other side, but the captain was not in the hall and any possibility was better than none. So the drink it was, the question was how much. He took another sip and again he shrunk slightly. Several approximate calculations later and he came to the conclusion that he would have to drink it all. That he did in a single gulp and just as calculated, he found himself just small enough to go through the door.

He turned around and found the little door closed. He had left it open, what happened? He glanced up and found the key back upon the table. How had it gotten back up there? He was sure he had left it in the door. How- It was utterly illogical; objects didn't simply move of their own accord. There had to be someone moving them…

If there was someone - or something – "pulling the strings" - to use the human expression - the captain could be in danger! Spock needed to find him, fast! The door- it could still be unlocked. He scampered over and pushed and pulled, but to no avail. He tried to force it open, break it, but it held shut. He turned back towards the table and tried to climb up the leg. He made it a few inches up and slid back down.

He glanced around again, perhaps there was something he had not noticed before - or that had been transported in - that he could use to get back up there. Lying under the table, he spotted a little glass box. In it was a tiny cake with the words "EAT ME" written on it in what appeared to be currants. He took a bite. Nothing happened. He waited, but still it appeared to have no effect. So he tried again and soon enough he had eaten the entire cake, which though very little by his usual standards, was quite a lot for someone of his current size. Still, nothing happened.

It should not have been surprising. For the cake to do anything other than supply him with nutrients was utterly illogical- Suddenly he shot up until he had to double over so his head didn't hit the ceiling. By the time he stopped, he estimated he had grown to over 9 feet tall. There was no chance he would be able to fit through the little door, or even any of the larger ones, at this height.

"Spock!" the captain's voice sounded from behind him, "We're late, let's go!"

"Captain!" Spock exclaimed as he glimpsed the familiar figure, substantially smaller than he remembered him, racing past, down through the tiny door into the garden. "Wait up!" Spock called after him, turning towards the source of his voice, but the captain was out of sight.

He had lost the captain again! He now knew he was safe, but how long would that last? This time Spock knew where he was, but that did him no good. The door the captain had gone through - the only one Spock knew of that led into the garden - was barely large enough for his arm to fit through at this size. But there had to be another way! He just had to think, logically, what could he do?

There! He spotted a miniature standard issue communicator laying on the ground, beside it was an equally small phaser. He carefully picked them both up and opened the communicator.

"Spock to Enterprise! Do you read me?" he called into the device, turning the dial this way and that in search of an open frequency, "Enterprise, come in, this is Spock! The captain-"

He stopped short and dropped the communicator, suddenly its usual size in his hands. It clattered as it hit the ground. The phaser was in its holster on his belt, replacing the one he had lost. The hall was enormous around him - he had shrunk to barely an inch in height. How had that happened? It was utterly illogical!

Still, that didn't matter; he had the captain to find. He bent down to pick up the communicator and stowed it away in his belt in case it might be of use later. He took a step towards the table and his feet slid against the floor. He scrambled to gain traction as he fell forwards.

Saline water closed in around him. He felt himself sinking, deeper and deeper. He held out his arms and pushed against the viscous fluid. His lungs ached with want for oxygen as his head broke the surface into open air and he took a deep, gasping breath. In and out, in and out, he paddled relentlessly to keep his head above the water. Finally, he forced his eyes open to find himself in the midst of a blue expanse, stretching out into forever. Land was nowhere in sight. Where had the hall gone? Someone must have transported him- Where was the captain?

Suddenly he heard something splashing in the water a little ways away.

"Jim!" he called out.

His arms and legs slapped the water, propelling him forwards as fast as he could move them. But it wasn't the captain. He found himself face to face with what appeared to be a giant Earth mouse, about as large - or as small - as he was.

"What did you say?" he heard someone ask, from about where the mouse was swimming - or at this point, treading water.

He quirked an eyebrow in its direction, "You are?"

"A mouse." the creature appeared to reply as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Apparently it had the facility of speech, "Fascinating." he said aloud.

"What's so fascinating?" the mouse demanded.

"In my experience, it is uncommon for rodents to posses the facility of speech." he explained.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I have never before encountered, or seen a record of a mouse, or another rodent with the ability to communicate in a way that is understandable by humans or Vulcans." he explained, but there were more important matters that needed to be dealt with, "Do you know our present location?"

"Now you're trying to change the topic! I don't believe it, the rudeness of some people!" the mouse turned and began to swim away, mumbling angrily as it went.

Apparently, mice were no more logical than humans, or at least this one was not. But he was stranded in the middle of a strange body of water, he knew not where, likely several times smaller than his usual size. It was not a time to be particular about his company, so he swam quickly to catch up with the mouse. His arms and legs ached with exertion, but he ignored them.

"Your behavior is highly illogical," he reprimanded the mouse as soon as he was caught up to it, "I simply wish to know our exact location."

"Well you should have thought about that before you were so rude to me!" the mouse exclaimed in a huff, its nose in the air. It paddled away at an accelerated rate.

"Do you at least know how to get to shore?" he called out after it, unable to keep his head above the water and match its pace.

"We're almost there," it replied in exasperation, "Can't you see it?"

The mouse motioned ahead and there he saw the outline of a mass of dry land sticking out from the glistening blue waves. To be on solid land again; his muscles cried out for immediate satisfaction, but they would have to wait.

As he had been talking with the mouse - a most unusual phrase, said aloud or in his mind - they had been surrounded by what appeared to be several earth animals. One, that he took for a giant duck, seemed at home in the water, but some of the others - among them a dodo that he thought had long since gone extinct, an eaglet, and a brightly colored tropical bird - swam awkwardly, most obviously adapted to flight instead – he wondered why they were not merely flying over the water as opposed to swimming in it.

Somehow, they all made it to the bank and gathered on the strip of sandy beach that separated the water and a deep forest. It was not a place he recognized. His best guess was that he was on an earth colony, though which, he did not know. The animals were talking among themselves, grumbling about how they were so cold and wet - it appeared they could all speak.

"Do you have any ideas?" the eaglet inquired.

Spock quirked an eyebrow at it, "We will dry eventually. There are more important matters at hand."

"You have obviously never tried to fly with wet wings," the brightly colored bird retorted from a little ways away, stretching each of its dripping wings in turn.

"I have never tried to fly at all." Spock answered dryly, "Vulcans have a distinct lack of wings."

"What's a Vulcan?" the duck asked from behind him.

"I am a Vulcan, we are a humanoid race from the planet of the same name that orbits the star Alnitak."

"Oh, I love a good story!" the eaglet exclaimed enthusiastically.

"It is not a story." Spock replied, this was becoming ridiculous.

The duck was about to speak when the mouse called out, "Sit down, all of you, and listen to me! _I'll_ soon make you dry enough!"

The others sat down at once, in a large ring with the mouse in the middle. Spock remained standing.

"What are you waiting for?" the one that resembled a dodo asked, looking up at him.

"I don't have time for this illogical nonsense," Spock retorted, "Does anyone know exactly where we are?"

"Ahem!" the mouse interrupted, "If you're going to be rude, you should just leave. We are attempting to get dry, if that is nonsense to you, than you can just stay wet. Now, are you all ready? This is the driest thing I know. Silence all around if you please."

He turned away as the mouse began to speak in a flat voice. He looked out upon the bar of sand, empty as far as the eye could see. The forest appeared equally barren from where he stood. If he had his tricorder he might have been able to find something, but without it, he could see no other evidence of life. He was stranded upon a beach, his only company an assembly of talking animals, that were several times more interested in drying off than figuring out where they were-

A branch cracked loudly from inside the forest.

"How did I loose them?" It was the captain! "Of all the absent minded-"

"Jim!" Spock called out as he spun towards the forest.

There he spotted the captain weaving back and forth, his head down as he searched for something in the underbrush. Spock was about to announce that he had found the aforementioned "them" but his belt was empty.

"Spock, go back and fetch my phaser and communicator." the captain ordered, before running off into the forest.

"I can't beam up." Spock called out, racing after him, but he was gone.

"Jim!" Spock shouted to no reply, "Captain Kirk, where are you?"

Green light filtered through the leaves of thousands of trees, towering above him. He tromped on through the underbrush, brambles and thickets up to his waist where they were thinnest. The solid trunks of birches and oaks jutted out from the treacherous jungle in gigantic columns of dark brown wood.

The sound of his own footsteps was accompanied by what resembled the songs of hundreds of birds flying above him, but he saw none of them. He saw and heard insects crawling beneath his feet, still several times smaller than himself, but for all intents and purposes, he was alone.

He could no longer hear the sound of the waves crashing against the shore, nor see the blue water or the sandy beach. Human civilization was equally absent. He wandered through the endless jungle, searching, searching, for some trace of the captain in this strange land, so much like and unlike his few experiences of Earth.

His clothes, air dried, were stiff against his damp skin, but the discomfort was easily ignored. There were more pressing matters at hand as he forged on through the dense underbrush, just as tall as himself. He was lost, in a strange land, with the captain nowhere to be found.

He pushed aside another branch, pressing against it with nearly his entire weight and finally it gave. He fell forwards, his hands outstretched to catch him before he hit the ground. Instinctively, he rolled and found himself standing on a dirt path in front of a small house in the old English style, surrounded by a whitewashed picket fence.

Civilization at last... Perhaps someone there would know where he was, maybe they had even seen the captain! He made his way over to the fence and threw open the gate. A quick walk up the path and he stopped at the wooden door. Upon it was a brass plate with "CPTN. J. T. KIRK" engraved into it. Spock doubted very much that he was in Iowa, but all the same he raised a hand and knocked three times.

There was no answer.

He turned the handle and found it unlocked, so he opened the door and called inside, "Is there anyone here?"

No reply.

He stepped inside and went upstairs. He turned down the hall, into a small room almost identical to the captain's chambers on the Enterprise. The only difference he could see was a window in the far wall with a table in front of it. On that table were a communicator and two or three phasers - somehow he couldn't tell exactly how many there were. His eyes narrowed as he attempted to focus, but the more he tried the harder it became as his head began to pound. What was going on? There was something amiss, but he needed more data...

He blinked to clear his mind and pocketed them all just in case. As he turned to leave, he spotted a bottle by the mirror. Upon closer examination, it appeared to be almost identical to the one in the hall, hold for the label which was missing entirely. Fascinating. The question was what effect drinking the contents would have. If they made him grow, that might just be useful; to be able to cover larger distances faster and see farther. Perhaps then he would have a chance of finding the captain...

Spock picked up the bottle and took a sip and almost instantly the room seemed to shrink around him so he had to crouch just to fit. He was nearly double his previous size, much too large to fit through the door. A bit stronger of an effect than expected, but not altogether negative. Maybe if he took another sip or two, he would be able to get out through the roof.

He drank again and grew again, larger and larger until he filled the little room. He hastily put down the bottle to keep it from breaking. He tried to move, but all he could do was strain against the walls. He was stuck. He needed to get out. Was there enough air? He could swear he couldn't breathe- But that was illogical!

"Spock!" it was the captain, shouting from out front - he would be able to find a way out! - "I need my phaser and my communicator! Why are you taking so long? We're going to be late!"

"I'm stuck, sir." Spock replied simply.

"Stuck? What do you mean?"

"Come up and you can see for yourself."

Spock soon heard footsteps on the stairs and felt as the captain tried to open the bedroom door, which was pressed against his elbow and so remained solidly shut.

"I'll try the window then." He heard the captain say, apparently more to himself than present company.

Once he estimated the captain was within view, Spock forced his arm through the window, the glass shattered around it.

"What's going on in there?" the captain shouted in surprise.

"I appear to have grown a little." He explained.

"A little?" the captain said with a laugh. He thought for a moment before continuing, "Dr. McCoy might be able to help. Wait here!"

"Captain, I don't believe I have a choice." Spock's remark was greeted by silence.

Finally he heard Dr. McCoy speaking from the front of the house. "What happened to Mr. Spock?" he asked incredulously.

There was a pause before the doctor spoke again, this time from below the window, "That's what you get for having a Vulcan first officer." Spock heard him mutter, before clearly saying, "A barrel should do."

"A barrel of what?" Spock asked, when a shower of little pebbles came in through the window - they had somehow managed to get in around his arm. Several hit him in the face.

"And what was that supposed to do?" he said dryly.

"I have to go!" he heard the captain exclaim, "We're already late!"

"Captain! Wait up!" Spock called out, but there was no reply.

He was about to continue when he noticed the pebbles turning into little cakes. Most illogical, but he picked one up and ate it, all the same. The little cake in the hall had made him larger upon consuming it, hopefully that would enable him to destroy the house and get out that way – he would have to apologize to the Captain for the damages, but there was little else he could do. They could also make him smaller, or thy could, of course, just be normal cakes, but he concluded that was unlikely.

As soon as he had swallowed one of them, he began to shrink – problem solved. Once he was small enough to get through the door, he ran outside, to find that both the captain and Dr. McCoy were nowhere to be seen. Instead he found an assortment of strangely dressed animals collected in the front yard. They rushed at him as soon as he was out the door. He pulled his phaser - making sure it was on stun - and shot as many as he could, but they kept coming.

All he could do was run past the white picket fence and dive into the underbrush. He raced past bushes that looked like trees and tree trunks that looked like they were the size of mountains. The insects were half his size and likely twice as dangerous. How could he find the captain from a mere three inches above the ground? He doubted he could comb the entire forest at his usual height, at this rate he couldn't even begin to search. He had a communicator, but as the captain apparently lacked one and he was unable to contact the Enterprise, it was as good as useless.

His pace slowed from sprinting, to running, to a steady jog, to simply walking. There was no point in attempting to get nowhere faster. He needed to know where he was and more importantly how to get out. Maybe a bird could help him - if they talked and decided not to eat him. The insects appeared generally unhelpful. He had seen no rodents of any sort, though if the mouse he had met earlier was anything to go by, that wouldn't do him much good either.

He walked and walked and walked, on and on through the strange forest of giant brambles. Suddenly his eyes narrowed; there was something, there, in the distance! He raced towards a grove of mushrooms to find what looked like a caterpillar perched on top of one. It appeared to be smoking an old Earth water pipe - he believed it was of Middle Eastern origin - lost to the world.

"Do you know where this is?" Spock called out sharply.

There was a long pause as the creature stared at him and he stared back, before it took the hookah - as Spock believed it was called - from its mouth and addressed him in a sleepy voice, "Who are _you?_"

"First officer Spock of the U.S.S. Enterprise. I am searching for Captain James T. Kirk, have you seen him? He is a human in a yellow uniform."

"_I_ have not" the caterpillar replied.

"Do you at the very least know where this is?" Spock repeated.

"Why?" it countered, "Who are _you?_" there was a sharp tone of doubt to its voice.

Spock quirked an eyebrow at the creature, "As I said, I am the first officer of the Starship Enterprise-"

"What is _that_?"

"A Constitution class Federation starship. Will you answer my question or not?"

"_Your_ question? Why?"

This was utterly illogical, but he had found no one else. As unfortunate as it was, this caterpillar was his best chance to find the captain…

"So that I can find Captain Kirk and return with him to the Enterprise." he explained deliberately.

"Why?"

"It is my duty to defend the captain. If you do not know where this is, do you at the very least know how I could grow any larger?"

"Why?" it asked again, drawing itself up to its full height, "What's wrong with being three inches tall?"

This was becoming very repetitive, all the same Spock explained, "It is not optimal for searching for someone. If I was taller, I would be able to cover more ground and see farther."

There was a pause as it took a long drag from the hookah, before finally replying, "You'll get used to it in time."

"I don't have any time! Especially not after you've been wasting so much of it."

Another long silence as it put the pipe back in its mouth.

Spock considered turning to leave; the creature had been of absolutely no use and who knew what trouble the captain had gotten into in while Spock was lost in the forest - he just hoped Jim wasn't in danger. But spending even more time wandering around aimlessly through the forest would not help him find the captain, especially not at this height. If he knew where anyone else was, he might be able to-

"Keep your temper…" the caterpillar finally said, drawing out each word.

"There's no need to insult me." Spock replied.

"Insult _you?_ Who are _you?_"

Not this again! Dr. McCoy would be more helpful than this caterpillar! Spock turned and started back into the underbrush, ready to face whatever else he found-

"One side will make you grow taller, and the other side will make you grow shorter..." the caterpillar called after him.

What was it talking about? One side and the other side of what? The creature was probably intoxicated by whatever it was smoking-

"Of the mushroom..." the caterpillar explained.

Spock turned to see the end of its tail disappearing into the tall grass. If the caterpillar was right, he might just be able to find the captain! Now, which side was which? He slowly walked around the edge of the mushroom the caterpillar had been sitting on, searching for some marker that signified the two distinct sides, but it appeared to be identical all the way around.

He quirked an eyebrow at it skeptically. Was he really about to trust that caterpillar? But this might be his only chance to get out of the forest and find the captain. At least the unpleasant creature had departed. He broke off two pieces from opposite sides of the mushroom and took a bite of one. Almost instantly he found himself shrinking and shrinking, until the pieces were almost as large as himself. He dropped the one that made him smaller and took a bite from the other.

His body suddenly stopped shrinking and instead stretched upwards, past the underbrush and tall tree trunks, up through the canopy until he was looking down upon a sea of leaves. The bright blue sky was all that remained above him. His shoulders had vanished far beneath him, but his neck moved easily, several times more flexible than he remembered it.

But it did not help him find the captain. He looked this way and that, but all he could see were the tops of trees extended out to the horizon. He had gone directly from too short to too tall, without stopping in between-

"Serpent!" something screamed, not far from his head.

He maneuvered himself so he could see the small organism, resembling a pigeon, and quirked an eyebrow at it.

"Serpent, I say again!" it repeated, a bit more subdued, "I've tried every way, and nothing seems to suit them! I've tried the roots of trees, and I've tried banks, and I've tried hedges, but those serpents! There's no pleasing them!"

It seemed that this would go no better than his encounter with the caterpillar, but then again, the caterpillar had enabled him to find the means to change his size at will - as soon as he got the proportions right - so perhaps this would be similarly helpful.

"You have me mistaken," he said simply, "I am no serpent-"

"Well, what are you then?" the bird exclaimed.

"I am Commander Spock, first officer of the U.S.S. Enterprise," he explained.

"Likely story, just spouting nonsense! You're a serpent after my poor eggs!"

"This is utterly illogical, I am a Vulcan, not a serpent." he was sounding like Dr. McCoy, not a good thing.

"Next you'll be telling me you don't eat eggs!"

"I don't." this was getting nowhere…

"Classic serpent!" its voice rose to a high shriek that rang in his ears, "Dirty liars, the lot of you! You're after my eggs and I know it!" it screeched and flew off in a huff.

That was useless. Spock somehow managed to lift the right piece of mushroom to his mouth and made his way back to his usual size bite by bite.

It was almost as if he were looking down from the vantage point of a giant. The underbrush that had towered above him minutes before, now crunched beneath his huge feet. What had been some strange cross between mountains and skyscrapers were now mere tree trunks. He slowly made his way through the forest, careful not to step on anyone that might be underfoot.

"Captain Kirk! Jim!" he called out as he walked, listening carefully between shouts for a reply.

None came.

Just because he was taller did not mean he would be able to find the captain. He needed to know where he was-

Suddenly he glimpsed a little house of English style - about four feet high - sitting in the middle of a small clearing. Maybe whoever lived there would have some sort of answer for him. He nibbled on one piece of mushroom until he was of the right size, before making his way over to the door. He could hear a great racket coming from inside; howling, sneezing, and ever so often a loud crash of something fragile being shattered to pieces.

He was about to knock when a security officer, whose head resembled that of a fish, ran out of the woods and up to the door. Spock barely had time to step aside. It rapped at the door that was immediately opened by another security officer, this one with a face who looked like that of a frog's. They both had curly white hair he suspected was a powdered wig.

The one with the head of a fish produced a gigantic paper envelope from under his arm and handed it over to the one with the frog's head, saying, "For the Duchess. An invitation from the Wizard to play chess."

The frog repeated it, "From the Wizard. An invitation for the Duchess to play chess."

When it appeared they both had nothing more to say, they bowed low to one another. Their hair got tangled together as their heads met in the middle.

Spock watched the whole scene unfold with an eyebrow raised. He had seen many unusual sights in his time as a Starfleet officer, but this was one of the more unusual. The two untangled themselves from one another and the frog ran off, leaving the fish to sit upon the ground by the door, staring up at the sky.

"Do you know where this is?" Spock asked.

"Do I?" it replied dreamily, not looking down.

Spock waited, but the fish made no move to continue.

It was going to be of no use, dressed as a security officer or otherwise. Spock returned his attention to the door and raised a hand-

"There's no sort of use in knocking," it said, in the same tone, "and that for two reasons. First, because I'm on the same side of the door as you are: secondly because they're making such a noise inside, no one could possibly hear you-"

"How else do you suggest I enter?" Spock replied sharply.

"I shall sit here," the fish remarked after a pause, "till tomorrow-"

The door to the house swung open and a large porcelain plate came flying out, aimed straight at the footman's head. Spock shoved him out of the way and it crashed against one of the trees behind them.

"-or the next day, maybe." it continued as if nothing had happened.

"Who is inside?" Spock demanded.

"Inside? I shall sit here on and off for days and days."

Spock had never been anywhere where the people were so unhelpful, "Do you know where this is or not?"

"This? How would I know?" it answered as if the question was absurd.

Never mind. This was getting absolutely nowhere. He walked back up to the door and raised a hand to knock-

"There's no sort of use-"

"Yes," Spock interrupted, "You mentioned that. How else do you suggest I get inside?"

"_Are_ you to get in at all? That's the first question, you know."

That was an illogical question. He would get inside by whatever means he needed to, if it meant he might be able to find the captain. Getting in the easy way was preferable, but the fish was not about to help him at all, so he would likely have to find an alternative-

"I shall sit here on and off, for days and days." the fish remarked again.

This was useless! He returned to the door and rammed himself against it. It did not budge. He stepped back and gave it a sharp kick, but all he got was an injured foot. Perhaps... He tried at the brass doorknob, pushing and tugging as he turned it this way and that until finally the door swung open.

He stepped inside, into a large stone kitchen. The hot, heavy air was full of peppery smoke emanating from a fireplace. In the middle of the room, Lieutenant Uhura sat upon a three-legged stool. She wore a long red dress with ruffles and frills, out of Europe's 19th century. In her arms was a baby that sneezed and howled without pause. Ever so often, she let out a sneeze herself. Nurse Chapel knelt in front of the fire tending a large cauldron full of a soupy liquid. She wore a simple blue dress. Her and what appeared to be a large grinning cat curled up on the hearth were the only ones immune to the pepper.

"Mr. Spock," Lieutenant Uhura exclaimed, "What are you doing here?"

"Spock?" Nurse Chapel glanced up in nervous surprise, "I wasn't expecting you! What brings you here?"

He quirked an eyebrow at them, "I was about to ask both of you the same question. Why are you down here and not up on the ship?"

"Well," Lieutenant Uhura replied, taken aback, "I'm - Achoo! - the Duchess and Christine is my cook-"

This was utterly illogical, Lieutenant Uhura was no Duchess, and Nurse Chapel was a nurse, not a cook, "Duchess? Cook? What are you talking about?" he interrupted.

Nurse Chapel stood, "Spock, are you okay?" she placed a hand on his arm.

"Your concern is unnecessary," he retorted, pushing away her hand, there were more important matters at hand than Duchesses and Cooks, "Have either of you seen the captain?"

Lieutenant Uhura shook her head, "I've been here the whole time." she punctuated the statement with a sneeze.

"I haven't seen him either." Nurse Chapel added awkwardly, "But I can help you look, if you like..."

Unfortunate, "Do either of you know where this is?"

"Mr. Spock," Lieutenant Uhura sneezed, "Christine might be right, you do seem a bit off..."

What was going on? There was something affecting the others, some factor he had not accounted for. Perhaps whatever had been manipulating him in the room was influencing things here as well. But he was no doctor and even if he was, he had no time to worry about some strange illness of the mind; he needed to find the captain! What if the captain had fallen victim to it?

"Have you been able to contact the Enterprise at least?" he demanded with increased urgency.

They shook their heads.

Nurse Chapel took him by the arm, "Come on, maybe you just need some fresh air, it is really stuffy in here-"

Did they not understand? The captain was missing and Spock didn't have any idea as to where either of them was! The captain could be in danger, or worse.

"Do either of you know the captain's possible whereabouts, if you know the area so well?" Spock attempted once more, not budging an inch.

"Come on, let's step outside, the air may do you some good…" Nurse Chapel tried again, tugging at his arm.

What was she thinking? He tore his arm out of her grasp, turned and left. He stepped outside and took in a deep breath. It came out in a thunderous cough that made him double over, heaving. He coughed until his throat was sore and he could cough no more. Then he sat down upon the steps and breathed, in and out. The air was so cool and fresh…

Eventually he stood once more and returned to the deep forest, taking a bite of the mushroom to return himself to his normal height as he went.

He wandered in the green light once more, making his way he knew not where, in search of his lost captain. Dead end after dead end, he would have expected officers of the Enterprise - senior officers, nonetheless - to be more helpful, but they could not help that they had fallen under some strange influence. No, he just needed to keep searching, as the smoking caterpillar had helped him, perhaps he would find another unwilling aid.

He could not stop, he just had to keep going, he could not stop- his steady stride turned into a jog, and a run, and a sprint, as his legs flew below him, the forest raced past. He just needed to keep going. He would find the captain. He just needed to keep searching, searching, searching, searching… His breath came fast but he could not stop-

On the branch of a distant tree he spotted the smiling cat from the Lieutenant's kitchen. Unfortunately, he could not ask a cat for directions- But what was stranger about asking a cat than a caterpillar? All the animals he had encountered so far here had been able to talk, just because this one had remained quiet in the kitchen did not mean it was an exception-

Spock stopped short just below the branch on which it was perched, "Have you seen a man in a yellow uniform?"

"Maybe I have, or maybe I haven't." the cat replied, its grin stretched even wider.

This was ridiculous, "Have you or have you not?"

"Have you?" it countered.

Perhaps another route of inquiry would be more effective, "Do you know where this is?"

"This? The middle of the woods, if I say so myself."

"Do you know where I should go to search for someone?" he tried again.

"That depends a good deal on where you want to get to." it replied, as if to a different question.

"That depends on what is nearby." he tried again.

"In that direction," the cat waved its right paw left, "Lives a Hatter: and in that direction," it waved its left paw right, "Lives a March Hare. Visit either you like: they're both mad."

"Then they won't be of much use, will they?" he asked rhetorically.

"Oh, you can't help being among mad people, we're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad."

Spock raised an eyebrow at the cat, "I would say that is a highly logical self assessment, but I do not see how you came to the conclusion that I am mad."

"You must be, or you wouldn't have come here."

"_I_ had no choice in the matter."

"Do you play chess with the Wizard today?"

What did that have to do with anything? "Wizard? Those are merely Earth legends."

"You'll see me there." the cat said, apparently ignoring his remark, before it vanished into thin air.

Someone had transported it somewhere, the question was where and more importantly, who? Perhaps, again, it was the same manipulator pulling at the strings-

"By-the-bye, what became of the baby?" the cat asked as it reappeared once more, "I'd nearly forgotten to ask."

The baby? What baby? There was a more important question he now had the opportunity to ask, "Where were you transported to?"

"What became of the baby?" it asked once more.

Baby? Was he asking about the child Lieutenant Uhura had been holding? "I do not know. Who transported you, were to?"

The cat simply grinned even wider and vanished once more before Spock could grab it.

He would find the manipulator another way. Until then, he had a Hatter and a Hare to visit. He would attempt to find the Hatter first. There was a chance he had been poisoned by the mercury from his hats - if he recalled correctly, that had been the origin of the expression "as mad as a hatter" - but Spock would probably have better luck with him than a rabbit. With that in mind he headed off on the path the cat had directed him to.

Spock did not have to walk far before he found a small house nestled in the woods. It had two chimneys, resembling the ears of a rabbit, and its roof appeared to be thatched with fur. He suspected this was the home of the March Hare – the cat seemed to have reversed the directions, he suspected on purpose. Under a tree in front of the house, there was a table, set for a proper English tea, with more settings than there were people to fill them. He nibbled on the mushroom until he was about two feet tall before making his way over.

Seated at the far end of the table was what appeared to be a rabbit, dressed in period attire. Beside it was a large mouse, fast asleep. On the mouse's other side was man with reddish-blond hair, in a blue-green overcoat, with a large bow. Perched upon his head a black top hat with a card in it bearing the inscription "10/6" in large, stylized black print. Both the man and the rabbit were resting their elbows on the mouse's head. The two appeared to be in the midst of an avid conversation.

"No room! No room!" they called out as soon as they saw Spock coming.

Spock quirked an eyebrow at them, "That's highly illogical, there is plenty of room."

"Have some wine." the rabbit said as Spock stopped at the other side of the table.

"I am a Vulcan, I do not drink."

"There isn't any." the rabbit retorted, as if he had made some great blow.

"Then it was highly illogical for you to offer it in the first place."

"It wasn't very civil of _you_ to sit down without being invited."

"I am not sitting," perhaps the grinning cat had been right, they were mad, "Even if I was, I would not be depriving you of a seat, unless you are expecting more company."

"Your hair wants cutting." the man in the hat remarked, out of nowhere. This was the first word he said after watching Spock curiously for some time.

"What does that have to do with anything?" No matter, he had more important things to focus on, "Have either of you seen a man in a yellow uniform?"

The man's eyes widened as Spock spoke and for a moment it seemed as if he might give an intelligent answer – the first one all the time he had been wherever he was – but all he said was, "Why is a raven like a writing-desk?

A raven? Like a writing-desk? "If the desk is made of wood, then they are both made up of organic molecules." he replied, but what did that have to do with anything?

"Do you mean that you think you can find out the answer to it?" the rabbit asked.

"That is my answer, though I do not know why one would wish to compare the two, or what that has to do with anything."

"Then you should say what you mean." it continued, apparently unaware of what Spock was saying.

Still, he supposed he might as well try again, "Do either of you know where this is, at the very least?"

"Why, this is Wonderland, my dear." the man said, a wild grin crossed his face for an instant. And then it was gone, replaced by an expression of simple impatience and a tone to match, "Not the same thing a bit! Why, you might just as well say that 'I see what I eat' is the same thing as 'I eat what I see'!"

What was going on? He had thought these men were both entirely detached from reality, but the man – the hatter – seemed to have some awareness. It was almost as if he were acting and had broken part for an instant. Perhaps he was "mad" in a completely different way. And if he knew where this was, perhaps he knew where the captain was!

The rabbit was saying, "... is the same thing as-"

"Do you know where the captain is?" Spock interrupted, turning on the man - the rabbit would be of no use to him.

"- 'I get what I like'!" the rabbit carried on, as if nothing had happened.

The man met his eyes once more, that strange glint returned, though the smile did not, but he did not say a word and soon looked away.

"You might just as well say," the mouse added, seemingly talking in its sleep, "That 'I breathe when I sleep' is the same thing as 'I sleep when I breathe'!"

"It _is_ the same thing with you." the man finally spoke once more, but it was nothing of use.

This again was pointless, utterly pointless. Whatever the man seemed to know, he was not about to tell Spock a word of it. He would have better luck if he returned to the forest, perhaps he would find the cat once more. With that he stood as the others sat in silence - the man's comment had stopped the conversation short - and walked away.

"What day of the month is it?" the man called after him.

Spock turned to face him, "On which calendar?" maybe, just like with the caterpillar, he would gain something of use, maybe all the madness would amount to something.

"Two days wrong!" the man exclaimed, "I told you butter wouldn't suit the works!"

Never mind. Spock turned back towards the woods and left at a steady pace as the strange party carried on without him.

He had barely returned to the forest when he spotted what appeared to be a door built into the trunk of a particularly large tree. It was most unusual… He pulled at the door and it opened!

He found himself inside the same hall from which he had started. Not again! When he looked behind himself the door had vanished. He would have to go through that all again- but this time he had the mushroom! He grabbed the little golden key from the glass table and unopened the old little door. He nibbled on the mushroom until he was the right size and walked down the little passageway.

On the other side was the beautiful garden, just as he had seen it looking through the keyhole. By the passageway were three people in beige Starfleet uniforms, with little black shovels hanging from their belts and varying numbers of spades - like on the playing cards- instead of their Starfleet insignia on their chests. They were crowded around a white rosebush, painting the flowers with bright red paint. An unusual pastime… He vaguely recognized their faces, though he could not identify them. Maybe they knew where the captain was!

"Look out now, Five! Don't go splashing paint over me like that!" one of them - with two spades on his chest - exclaimed as Spock approached.

"I couldn't help it." another - presumably the aforementioned 'Five,' with five spades on his chest - replied, "Seven jogged my elbow."

The other - Seven, with the same number of spades - looked up and retorted, "That's right, Five! Always lay the blame on others!"

Spock was sure the argument was highly productive, but he had the captain to find, "Have any of you seen Captain James T. Kirk of the starship Enterprise?"

They all turned to see Spock standing there behind them.

The one who spoke first exclaimed, "The King wants to see you!"

"The King-" Spock began, first a wizard now a king?

"The Wizard! The Wizard!" they all interrupted, throwing themselves onto their faces

Spock heard the sound of many uniform footsteps, as if in a military parade, and turned to see ten humans pass, marching two by two, all in red uniforms. Each one carried a black club and had little black clubs - also resembling the playing card suit - on their chests. They were positioned in ascending order. Next came ten in blue uniforms with large red diamonds hanging from their belts where a phaser holster should be, they had little red diamonds on their chests and were also arranged in ascending order.

After them were what appeared to be ten little children, skipping in pairs, hand in hand. They were adorned with an ascending number of hearts. Next came the command officers, all dressed in yellow. Instead of their Starfleet insignias, they all had the symbols of different suits emblazoned on their chests.

They were followed by Lieutenant Scott carrying a crown, with a ruby heart in the top, upon a velvet cushion. And finally, was what had to be the Wizard and the King – Dr. McCoy and the captain respectively. Dr. McCoy wore a long red cloak and tall pointed hat, both covered in red hearts of different sizes. In his hand was a long staff. The captain was dressed even more fantastically, in red, ermine robes, also decorated with hearts. He carried a scepter with a giant ruby heart set in the top.

"What's he doing here?" Dr. McCoy demanded of Lieutenant Scott, though his eyes were fixed on Spock as he came to a stop in front of him. The unusual procession stopped ahead of the Doctor.

Lieutenant Scott merely smiled and shook his head.

The captain appeared to be too busy giving orders to the others to take any notice.

The doctor gave the Lieutenant a dirty look and returned his gaze to Spock, "What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"I've been looking for the captain." the half-Vulcan replied sharply.

"And what are _they_ doing?" Dr. McCoy narrowed his eyes at him.

"How should I know?" Spock countered, "I just arrived. Your behavior is most illogical."

"Why you- Off with his head! Off-" McCoy shouted suddenly, shaking with fury.

"Bones," the captain interrupted, returned from what he had been doing, "Whatever it is that Spock did, you can't have him executed." he shook his head in exasperation.

The doctor looked away in frustration and turned to the men in beige uniforms on the ground before them, "Get up!" he ordered in a loud, surprisingly shrill voice.

They leaped to their feet and started bowing to everyone in sight.

"Stop that!" he screamed, "What have you been doing here?"

"Sir," the first one said, from down on one knee, "We were trying-"

Dr. McCoy, who had been examining the roses, cut him off, "I see! Off with their heads!"

With that the procession moved on. Spock followed, making his way over to the captain. He found him talking to three security officers who then stayed behind to deal with the three officers in beige.

"Captain!" Spock called out, maneuvering to his side, "You won't have them killed, will you? That would be completely and utterly illogical."

"Of course not," the captain replied with a grin, "But the Wizard doesn't need to know that."

At least the captain had kept his sanity, but, "The Wizard?" Spock asked an eyebrow raised; Dr. McCoy was no wizard.

"Are their heads off?" Dr. McCoy yelled out, suddenly, before the captain could reply.

"Their heads are gone, if it pleases you." the soldiers shouted back.

"That's right!" he exclaimed with a smile, before shouting, "Can you play chess?"

There was no reply as everyone watched Spock for an answer.

"Of course." he said, as he realized that the question had in fact been aimed at him.

"Come on, then!" Dr. McCoy roared and the procession headed off at an even faster rate.

Spock turned to the captain and quietly asked, "What's going on here?"

The captain simply shook his head. He wore that mischievous smile of his; they would likely be in danger, but the captain always had a plan. They soon came upon a large three level structure, covered in alternating black and white squares - a giant chess board.

"Get to your places!" Dr. McCoy roared, his voice like thunder.

Everyone ran in all directions, assembling on the board in starting positions. He found the captain in the white king's place while Dr. McCoy took the position of a bishop. The other officers filled in the gaps, Lieutenant Scott was a castle, Lieutenant Sulu and Ensign Checkov were knights and Lieutenant Uhura was the other bishop. A row of security officers took the places of the pawns.

On the other side there was a diminutive little king and a large boisterous queen. A white rabbit dressed in frills and a little girl in a blue dress took the place of bishops, the man in the unusual hat and the hare were knights, and the caterpillar with the hookah and the grinning cat were the castles. The pawns were assorted playing cards with human heads, arms, and legs.

"Captain, where do I go?" Spock asked, expecting orders.

"You're the knight of course." the captain replied with a grin.

Suddenly Spock's usual uniform was replaced by a suit of golden-white plate armor, the likes of which he had seen only in descriptions of knights from Europe's middle ages, though the helmet was missing. He found himself in the queen's starting position. Before he could correct anyone, however, the game began.

"Charge!" the captain and the other side's queen exclaimed simultaneously.

The pawns moved from their starting positions and attacked one another. The board was soon full of yelling, the clanking of metal and the blasting of phasers. The captain shouted orders while the other queen exclaimed, "Off with his head!" or "Off with her head!" every few seconds. A battle raged around them, but Spock stood firmly by the captain. He had taken a sword from its sheath in his belt and held it out, just in case.

Suddenly Spock noticed a familiar grin hovering in the air before him. Slowly the cat appeared around it.

"How are you getting on?" it asked.

"I would appreciate it if everything made a bit more sense." he retorted.

"Sense, or nonsense, they're all the same, really." the cat replied.

"No they're not." Spock replied with a solid swing of his sword, "That is highly illogical."

The cat vanished and he found himself standing in front of the captain. The war raged around them, but the captain was unthreatened - for now.

Suddenly the man in the unusual hat appeared in front of him. Spock remembered his strange, mad smile and tightened his guard. He had to protect the captain.

"Curiouser and curiouser." the man remarked as if he expected Spock to know what he meant, "This isn't how it's supposed to go, you know. You've messed up my dream, it's very impertinent of you."

"Your dream? What do you mean?" Spock demanded, this man knew more than he was letting on - was he the manipulator? - "What's going on here?"

The man laughed, "You can't tell me you've never heard of Alice in Wonderland..."

Spock quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Well, I much prefer croquet, but if it's chess you want, then checkmate." the man replied with a huff.

"Checkmate? No!" Spock exclaimed as he spun around and saw the captain fall.

He turned back and drove his sword into the strange man.

Everything froze around him and faded until they were surrounded by nothing more than darkness, his sword remained out, through the man's chest. The man slowly faded away - his hat was the last to go - and then Spock was alone, his sword shoved into nothingness, but he could not move.

* * *

"Spock!" the captain's familiar voice called to him, "Spock, are you okay?"

He felt a warm hand on his shoulder. He forced his eyes open and found Jim bent over him, his face twisted with concern.


End file.
